


Paused Movies and Pile-Ups

by lizznotliz



Category: Superman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 10:07:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14041902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizznotliz/pseuds/lizznotliz
Summary: Look, Clark loves being Superman and he believes in the work - but that doesn't mean it's easy to leave when it's closing in on midnight, they're halfway through a movie, and Lois is wearing his clothes.





	Paused Movies and Pile-Ups

**Author's Note:**

> My best friend wanted some Lois/Clark fluff and I live to serve. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Look, Clark loves being Superman and he believes in the work.

But that doesn't mean it's easy to leave when it's closing in on midnight, they're halfway through a movie, and Lois is wearing his clothes.

("Your flannels are softer than mine, Smallville," she declares as she tugs one of his plaid shirts over her henley. 

"And yours would be just as soft if you, y'know, actually wore them and washed them as many times as I have," he points out, but she just sticks her tongue out at him and keeps buttoning. Not that he's ever going to stop her from wearing his clothes. He just wishes she'd stop pretending she only wears them because they're soft and not because they smell like him.)

(Yeah, he's figured that out.) 

There was a multi-car pile up on the highway - he could hear the tires squealing before the alert popped up on his phone - and there was still metal crunching and glass shattering by the time he pulled on his suit and opened the window. 

"I'll pause it," Lois had said, reaching for the remote, and he darted back to the couch to kiss her goodbye. 

"It's okay, I'm not sure how long this'll take."

"I'll pause it," she repeated and then, as if he'd already left, she called Krypto to join her on the couch. Clark had rolled his eyes as he flew out the window.

(He knew he wasn't so easily replaced by a dog, but still. The joke was maybe, sorta, kinda starting to get old.)

And now he's back, finally, and he smells like gasoline and there's blood under his fingernails and it's been almost two hours since he left the apartment so it's with not a little surprise that he finds Lois still on the couch, basking in the blue glow of the television. Krypto is asleep at her feet and she has her knees pulled up, a book propped up against them.

She's wearing his glasses.

("They're _our_ glasses now, Smallville," she reminded him one evening as she plucked them off his face. She needs reading glasses now - a fact he teases her about mercilessly - and so in retribution she had his glasses fit with magnification lenses. They don't bother him at all, he looks right through them, but it means she can borrow them whenever they're alone.)

She's wearing his shirt and his glasses and she's still awake and he loves her so goddamned much.

"How'd it go?" She asks, not even looking up from her book. He's not offended; there was a time when she would meet him at the window and check him over, like she still couldn't quite believe he could do all that he does and come out unscathed, but she trusts him now. That and he usually comes back kind of grungy.

"Best it could go," he says. He heads for the kitchen; they keep the industrial strength hand soap - the kind mechanics use, with sand in it - under the sink. 

"Can we play over/under?"

He mock glares at her; she's studiously not looking at him, but she's smirking at the book.

"You know I don't like that game."

"C'mon, indulge me."

"When _don't_ I?"

"Over/under people saved. Chop chop."

He scrubs under his fingernails, grimacing at the way the water circling the drain is stained pink. She must have checked the news to see that no one died or she wouldn't be playing this game. She must know he saved everyone.

"Fine. Twenty."

Lois hums quietly, closing her book and tapping the edge of his frames with her index finger. "There were ten cars in the accident. I paused the chopper footage and counted. That's an average of two people per car, but two of the cars were minivans and three were SUVs, which definitely hold more than two people."

"Most cars do."

"Hush." He dries his hands on a dishtowel hanging from the oven door and then mimes locking his mouth closed. "It's a Saturday night so, yeah, I definitely think it's possible there was more than two people in those cars, even if you take into account that the rest were sedans." She looks up at him, finally, smirking at him instead of her book. "Definitely over twenty. Don't sell yourself short, Smallville."

"Twenty-four," he admits quietly and she smiles at him like she's never been so proud of him in her life. She smiles at him like that so often and yet it never gets old, it never stops feeling novel and amazing.

Lois Lane is _proud_ of him.

God, he can't wait until they win a Pulitzer. She's gonna smile as bright as the sun, that day. He's sure of it. He's gonna _bask_ in it.

"You okay?" She asks, squinting at him a little, and he wants to tell her to take the reading glasses off when she's not reading, but she knows how much he likes her in his glasses so she's leaving them on. He nods, then superspeeds into the shower just to get the gasoline smell out of his hair. He's back, kneeling next to the couch, in less than sixty seconds. His palms rest on her legs and she smiles at him and gently pushes his damp hair off of his forehead. "Hey there."

"You could have gone to bed."

"It's fine."

"Lois, it's two in the morning."

She shrugs, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt. "I told you I'd pause the movie."

"I love you."

She smiles at him again, then leans in and kisses him. "I know."

"Want me to carry you to bed?"

Lois shakes her head, nudging Krypto gently with her foot until the dog wakes and eases off the couch and into his own bed in the corner of the room. With all that extra space at the end of the couch, Lois scoots forward and motions for him to sit behind her. "No, I want to watch the end of the movie."

"You're not sleepy?"

"Of course I'm sleepy," she says, using that tone she always gets at work when one of their coworkers says something stupid. "But I want to finish the movie and snuggle with you. Ten-car pile ups are not going to rob me of my snuggling, Smallville. Let's go."

He settles in on the couch and she tucks herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his ribs and he drops a kiss on the top of her head as he pulls up the DVD menu again. "I love you," he says again, because it's true and he can't help it, and he can feel Lois smile against his t-shirt.

"Love you, too, Clark."


End file.
